


The Vampire Prince

by KaibaSlaveGirl34



Series: The Two Coreys [9]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Slavery, F/M, Inspired by Fanfiction, Inspired by Music, Literature, Modern Era, Music, Princes & Princesses, Song: Kiss from a Rose, TV Tropes, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaibaSlaveGirl34/pseuds/KaibaSlaveGirl34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corey Feldman is a wealthy vampire prince with money to spare. Nicole Eggert is a young woman who is sold into slavery. One day, their paths cross… and at a slave auction of all places, too…</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Vampire Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harry2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harry2/gifts), [Billy_and_the_Regulators](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Billy_and_the_Regulators/gifts).



> In most vampire fiction, vampires tend to be filthy rich or at least comfortably loaded. It’s presumed that over the years they’ve managed to save/squirrel away money so that they can have a comfortable lifestyle, plenty of security so nobody comes in and stakes them in their sleep, and a fabulous wardrobe. Some certainly look like the Rich Idiot with No Day Job, while others may be Non-Idle Rich and manage to be financially enterprising. This is generally justified in that the vamp is hundreds of years old, and thus has had plenty of time to accrue his wealth. Being technically dead also saves several bills, as there’s no need to buy food, water, insurance… you get the idea.
> 
> Well, Corey Feldman himself is a vampire in this story, and he has money (meaning lots of it) to boot.

_There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea_  
_You became the light on the dark side of me_  
_Love remained a drug that’s the high and not the pill_  
_But did you know_  
_that when it snows,_  
_My eyes become large and_  
_The light that you shine can be seen_

_Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey_  
_Ooh, the more I get of you,_  
_Stranger it feels, yeah_  
_And now that your rose is in bloom,_  
_a light hits the gloom on the grey_  
~Seal, **Kiss from a Rose**

**Nicole Eggert’s POV**

I was a slave at a slave auction. I was wearing a white dress that accentuated the curves of my body. My blonde hair was straight and soft to the touch. My hands were clasped behind my back, and I looked down at my feet. If I ran, they would either bring me back, kill me or… worse. I swallowed back my fear as I shook with anxiety, fury and a little anticipation. I looked into the crowd. Someone would buy me, and then I would escape…

No, no, no. That wouldn’t work.

“Make her take it off,” someone called over the loud whistles and catcalls. I looked up, blinking back the tears. I shook my head. I would have muttered something, but I didn’t know what to say. I was too scared, so scared that I was numb. So to calm myself, I started humming to myself, a song that my mom used to sing to me when I was a little girl, and had been scared — scared of the monster under my bed, to be precise.

“Enough!” said a voice in the crowd. I looked up. There was a man; no, he wasn’t quite old enough to be a man. He looked more like… a teenage boy. I recognized him instantly; it was Corey Feldman!

“If she’s not yours, the dress stays on,” he said. His voice had enough sharpness in it to make the whole room (consisting of strong grown men) quiet. I blinked, confused. He wasn’t muscular, and I’m sure he looked young in a teenage-boy sort of way (and when I took a second look, I realized that my hunch was right). It had happened before, but the rest of them were silent this time.

Then Corey continued. “I shall buy her.”

The guard next to me frowned. “She don’t come cheap,” he yelled out to the Felddog.

He just shrugged and calmly said, “So? I have plenty of money, so something like a person or a thing never coming cheap isn’t a problem for me anyway. I never graduated from high school, but I can run a plantation of slaves made of criminals, such as drug dealers, rapists and child abusers.”

The guards’ eyes widened, and they sucked in their breath. “What?” said the second guard.

“It’s true. I make them work for me; they’re my slaves. I never enslave the innocent,” said Corey as he offered them a glimpse of his fangs, which were white, shiny and sharp as a sword. They jumped back, and he laughed as he walked down the line.

Shouts from the guards rang out up to the ceiling as the men turned and looked at each other with shocked looks and started to whisper among themselves upon hearing what the guards called the Felddog.

“Vampire!”

“Nosferatu!”

“Bloodsucker!”

There was an odd clinking noise. Spurs. The Felddog was wearing cowboy boots with spurs. Black, expensive-looking ones, but cowboy boots all the same.

My heart sank as I was forced off the stage and back outside into the cold night air.

“Aww, looks like our favorite little slave is finally getting sold. Ran out of ideas, eh, you little slut?” a guard hissed in my ear.

I rolled my eyes. I might’ve been broken, but I sure wasn’t washed up. “You know you’ll miss me,” I said sardonically.

I braced myself for a slap, but it didn’t come. I opened my eyes and blinked at what I was seeing. There was the hand, inches away, with another hand around the wrist belonging to the guard.

“I bought her, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t try and damage my property. You dig me?” snapped the Felddog.

The guard nodded; apparently he must’ve heard those shouts of what the Felddog was from his fellow guards. I stared at the Felddog with large eyes. He then noticed me and smiled.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Anytime, babe,” he replied, smiling still as he let go of the guard’s wrist, pushed him away and gently took me by the hand.

As the guard landed painfully on his side a few feet away, another car pulled up, but it wasn’t trashy like the truck I had been in for so, so long.

It was a limo!

**Corey Feldman’s POV**

I narrowed my eyes at the guard. He should’ve known better than to talk to me and my servants like that. Last week, he had called another servant of mine a slut. I had beaten him up pretty badly, but not too badly. He had also learned a lesson about me, although he had to learn it the hard way — and that was that in a battle, I win, and I can sure know how to pack a punch, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice feedback is, as usual, very much appreciated... :)


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